1Q84

(This is not a book review. I have no pretentions to the literary nous required for writing a book review. These are just some thoughts which ran through my mind while and after reading the book. I have tried to not include plot-spoilers, but when one talks about a book, some details of the plot, of necessity, are given away.)

I had never heard of Leos Janacek or his Sinfonietta before I began to read about Haruki Murakami’s new novel, 1Q84. But once I started reading the novel, the urge to listen to the piece grew, and one night, when I was about 600 pages in the novel, I set it down, went to youtube and listened to a performance of the piece by the BBC Symphony Orchestra. It was a warm, beery night, and I played that music again and again for nearly two hours and still could not find proper words to describe the music, or the sensations it was causing. It is feisty, bold, joyful, melodious. I am listening to it again as I am writing this.

When we are talking about 1Q84, it is important that we talk about music. Sinfonietta pervades the novel, it is music with which one of the lead characters grows up, it is the prelude to the most important plot turn of the book, and pops up quite frequently in the course of the story. I don’t know why Murakami picked up this obscure piece of music as a key thematic element in his novel, what was running through his mind as he must have sifted through compositions of other musical greats, but for some reason, after having read the novel and listened to the music, it seems an apt choice. Though, of course, it feels slightly ironic that a small symphony, one that hardly lasts for 20 minutes, be the key element of a novel that runs for 925 pages.

With Murakami, it seems it is not so much what the story is, than how it is being told. There is a celebrated story about how Murakami decided one day while watching a ball game that he could write fiction, and so he does. There is a parallel in the novel, where the two lead characters who have not met each other for twenty years (not since the time they were ten) decide that they love each other, and each sets out to find the other.

Tengo Kawana is a mathematics prodigy who has lost interest in math, and who decides, much like Murakami, that he wants to write fiction. So he teaches three days a week at a cram school, and spends his time writing fiction which never seems to go anywhere and pre-screening entries for literary prizes before they go to the jury. In this process, he comes across a very powerful story called Air Chrysalis which has, sadly, not been very well written. It is a novel about a young girl’s life at a commune, an incident involving a blind goat that has died and the enigmatically named little people. In a literary scam of sorts, editor Komatsu has him comprehensively rewrite the novel and it becomes a bestseller.

Aomame is a sports instructor/physical trainer, who sometimes plays avenging angel. One day, on her way to an appointment, she gets into a traffic jam at the elevated expressway, hears Sinfonietta on the radio, and is informed by the traffic driver that there exist special stairways used by maintenance people which go down to the street level, and she might prefer to go down and take the train if she is getting late. With it, comes an ominous sounding warning: ‘Things are not what they seem’. So, Aomame goes down to the street level, and just like that, the world changes.

This is not the regular world in which the story is set, it is Murakami’s world. It is a world which has transformed itself into a world with two moons, little people, secretive communes and air chrysalises. Things are not what they seem, indeed. For it is the world of a novel written by a dyslexic girl, Eriko Fukada, or Fuka Eri. This world is also 1Q84.

I have always felt that Murakami’s writing is not so much action driven as reflection driven. Important events happen, yes. The plot does contain twists, but mostly you can see them coming. If I were to use a driving analogy, it is not a winding drive on a road that passes through mountains; it is more of a languorous drive through rolling plains. Getting somewhere is important, but equally important is the pleasure is to be had in the process of reaching there. In that sense, 1Q84 is a beautiful book. But precisely because of that, it is a bit overlong. It runs to 900 pages in a 600 page plot. The other part is that while Murakami is a brilliant writer, the fact remains that in terms of virtuosity of language, he is no David Foster Wallace. Or maybe it is the translation. So, some sections feel too long, sometimes the reflection of the characters seems pretentious, and frankly over-indulgent.  Thankfully, such spots are very rare.

On the whole, while 1q84 is not another Kafka on The Shore, it still is an eminently readable novel and one of the better books you are likely to read this year.